


Substitute Lover

by TimedWatcher



Category: The Incredibles (2004)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-11-30 19:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11470371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimedWatcher/pseuds/TimedWatcher
Summary: A teacher toiling within himself is finally given reprieve... in the worst way possible: A young girl





	Substitute Lover

Settling into a room with nary a light, his hands crept across the desk, getting a feeling for it. He of course remembered where it was, the lantern that would cascade a glow of orange aura around his area of grind.  
  
Or you could just say he was turning on a light.  
  
He flopped into his soft coated arm chair and scooted his legs underneath the unpolished hard wood workspace, his hand fell onto a folder to the side of him, his fingers tapped against the paper envelope for a few seconds until he grabbed it like he would a burger and flopped it in front of him. He sat with a steely gaze, locked onto his assignment. Elbow resting upon his chairs raised cushion, hand wrapped around his mouth. He had entered almost a meditative state with the most minimal breathing escaping him. He didn't hate doing this. Far from it. He loved kids after all. How could you not in this profession? One of the most comforting parts about it was knowing that what you thought as a kid isn't that far off from what the kids of today were thinking.  
  
Funnily enough, sitting here and twiddling my thumbs while staring at some work hoping it would go away... me and kids aren't too far apart.  
  
As he was about to settle into the doldrums of checks and exes with his marking pen, there was a bang. A muffled one, but still. Everything from his ears to his eyebrows perked up. Swiveling in his chair, he faced the door. He knew that wasn't his cat that did it. She's way too old and doesn't move around like she used to. His eyes lingered at the gap in the door way, hoping for a bit of light to come in. Hoping they'd reveal their position. Whatever it was. Whoever it was.  
  
A cymbal like smash rang out. He recognized what it was as the sounds of the metallic tilt-a-whirl on his kitchen floor crescendoed and then finally came to a close. It was a big metallic bowl he had used for cooking. Now it existed as a place to hold his bachelor chow of chips. An orange substance pretending to be cheese buckshot onto a triangle shaped chip? The breakfast of champions.  
  
Although personal musings were fun, there was the real legitimate matter of somebody possibly being in his house. Placing his hand on the knob, he gave it a squeeze, yet he didn't turn it. The place has been broken into once before. Is this a repeat of events? He was thankful the one time it happened as it was nothing but smokes and disgusting wines he never finished that were taken. He finally gave the knob a turn and a push forward. The door creaked out into the darkness. He was reminded of when he was a kid of when he had to leave his room at night after seeing a scary movie. Besides the light that emitted from here, there was really nothing. Yet all those movie monsters really could be out there in that hallway between you and the bathroom. Or worse now. Just a regular guy willing to take my life for my loose change.  
  
I'd take any of those movie monsters now.  
  
He darted forward and slapped the wall, feeling it up for a second and finally getting a switch in his hand. With a flick, the shrouded fog of war was gone. Shadows expelled. This small victory was quelled when he remembered the kitchen. The darkness had only retreated.  
  
That's the only place where his large metal bowl would make that noise. The whir of his ceiling fan came into ear shot.  
  
Stepping onto the laminated floor from the carpeted hall, the cold of it against his barefoot sent tingles and goosebumps throughout his body and made him wish he had a preference for socks.  
  
Creeping in, the bottoms of his feet stuck each time he stepped. It was almost like he was putting on tape, taking it off, reapplying it, etc.  
  
Reaching for the middle string, he was careful on the pull. He didn't want to jettison another switch cord into the blades. The three bulbs brightly came on and he reacted fast to shield his eyes from it.  
  
Everything seemed like it was where it should be. The dishes, old uneaten fruit, cereal boxes left open. Except the silver gray coloured bowl on the floor, bottom up. He looked down into it, as the brightness of the lights was able to cast his reflection off it. His lips twitched for a second. Maybe...  
  
Nope. Can't do it.  
  
Yet in that moment of intense staring, he saw something. Saw someone. Long black hair was their main identifier. It wasn't exactly a mirror. He shot up and turned, yet it didn't seem fast enough. They were gone.  
  
Horrifying. Terrible. Stupid thoughts, crossed his mind. He looked back into the metallic bowl. He almost breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't still there.  
  
Oh wait. Somebodies in your house. There are no moments of relief. He stood with his back to the bowl. Eyeballs shifting from his hallway to his living room.  
  
"Who's there?" He felt like an idiot even asking that. He wondered if anybody would even be dumb enough to respond.  
  
They clearly knew I was here. I knew they were here. Best to hope that they could be a reasonable person. Somebody looking for a handout. Anything would be preferable to some of the stuff he's imagined so far.  
  
"Mr. Bradburn?" A young voice. A soft and mousy one. He recognized it quickly. Why was she here though? Why would any of his students be here? He knew there were many ways to extend the olive branch on teacher/student relations. He had even heard of colleagues who have given their phone numbers to their students. This, however, was pushing a boundary he never wanted crossed.  
  
"Violet?" He tilted his head towards the entrance to his living room. That's where he had heard her.  
  
Emerging from the shadows, the raven haired girl stepped into the kitchen light. The light produced a sheen across her long strands of dark hair. Her face was partially skewed by it, yet I could still see that she looked at me like she just couldn't believe the state I was in. My face in turn was placid. There were some choice words and phrases he wanted to share with her by exclaiming them as loud as possible, yet he knew better as a teacher. As a person.  
  
"So. What are you doing in my house?" It was hard to contain the venom in his voice. You consider your home your safe haven. Even vampires are kind enough not to invade it without your permission. There could be a variety of reasons as to why she's here though. Maybe something important enough to warrant breaking in like she did. It couldn't be related to her grades. She was above average or decent when she wanted to be. Typical case of a potentially great student who doesn't care and only puts in the most minimal of work to pass. He knows the case better than anybody.  
  
He was one of those kids.  
  
"I can't imagine you came here for a tutoring." He said with raised hands before shrugging, still not understanding.  
  
She stared like a deer in head lights for a couple seconds then shook her head. "No I... there were rumours at school about you."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. Kids loved to talk and make up stuff. Adults did it too, but kids stories were better. He was curious what they were saying about him that would cause her to come over here. Surely she couldn't be that foolhardy over something silly.  
  
"Like what?" He asked in a slightly bemused grin.  
  
She looked up and away, and every which way except at him. Then stopped with an inquisitive look. "Is it true your wife left you?"  
  
Violet may be this sweet young girl who would never hurt a fly, but he recoiled away from her like he had been struck in the face. You never show weakness to a student. Although that's a general rule of thumb in life, doing that with a student is different. They're supposed to come to you for help. You're not supposed to be human. You need to be all knowing with all the advice and knowledge in the world. Ignorance, not stupidity, there is a difference, and that difference can sink you as a teacher.  
  
Yet being in my home... I couldn't handle it. I once held this weight high above my head. Now it has sunk into my back and neck and is threatening to cut off circulation.  
  
He collapsed onto a nearby kitchen chair, his hands palming his face as he rested his elbows upon the lacquered table. He mulled over where it all went. What had he done wrong? How unhappy was she? It was a laundry list of questions running over him again. Some ranged from the mundane to the perverse. Yet it was nothing but a reprise of thoughts he had before. Why did it still hurt so?  
  
For her part, she tried to apologize in her small voice. He couldn't appreciate it. What could she possibly know about something like this? At most she'd have a couple pointless teenage romances at her age.  
  
Maybe there was something else... maybe she did understand, in a way he hadn't thought of. Maybe she was the child of a parent dynamic about to be split and she needed help? Was that why she was here? It had to be. Who would give a shit about some pathetic fuck who had to ask for personal leave because he was such a worthless sad sack who couldn't keep a woman satisfied?  
  
The pangs of grief started again, he felt a warmth and a wetness he thought he was past. He hated how weak he was. He had done it so much before to where he was nearly sick. He was supposed to be done with this part.  
  
His hands fell from his face onto the kitchen table. With a bit of drool on his lower lip and moistened eyes, he turned to face Violet in an almost drunken stupor. That beautiful long dark hair. That thin frame. Those purple-blue eyes... eye. Any sense of justice in this cruel universe was shattered as he realised something.  
  
She reminded him of his wife.  
  
He didn't remember when he did it. Why he did it. Any sense of right or wrong or student/teacher relations became inconsequential in that moment as he lunged at her violently, careening them both to the ground. Her body froze up, while his scrambled over her to align himself for a forced kiss. Violet was terrified. His eyes were glazed over, as if he had been taken over by an unknown force. Her lips struggled to keep him out as he attempted to gain entry with an engulfing kiss. She felt the patterned steam escaping his nose. The noise almost bordered on animalistic. His hands had tightened on her rib cage. They almost wrapped around her entirely.  
  
The softness of her face, her lips. The feeling of her body. It drove him crazy. Yet there was a moment of clarity. One he wanted to bury away. To live in this moment. Yet something was pulling him to the surface of his fantasy.  
  
The smell.  
  
It wasn't the essence he once knew and loved. It was Violet's. Pulling away in disgust, as if she had forced the kiss on him, he stared at what he created.  
  
Violets eyes were bulged, her chest rose and fell rapidly, hyperventilating.  
  
A scared student. One of his students. He hid his gulp.  
  
His hands fell to the sides of her body and he pushed himself up and away. He thought getting teary eyed in front of a student was his big moment of weakness.  
  
Bradburn loved proving himself wrong.  
  
"I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what came over me." He stood like a goofball, his words breaking apart as he attempted to apologize. Like the dolt he was, he realised he should probably help her up and he lowered himself and offered her a hand. Although he was hesitant at first considering what she probably thought of him now.  
  
Her small hand entered his grip. Although she seemed to have been acting like dead weight, or maybe she was heavier than he had imagined. As he began standing and as she had been angled up, his body suddenly was fighting against a weight. Violet had wrapped her hands around his neck. He didn't even get to think about what it meant as she pulled him in for a kiss.  
  
The contrast between his dry lips and her soft and moist mouth...  
  
What was he thinking? He ripped away from her.  
  
"What are you doing?" He turned and had begun walking when his nose and face collided with something. Yet there was nothing separating his kitchen and living room. Was this nonsense a dream? He felt like he slammed himself against a barrier. His hands touched... nothing... yet there was still something keeping him from going forward. It couldn't...  
  
Bradburn turned his head slowly back.  
  
He saw Violet with her arms raised, her palms outstretched, as if she was controlling something.  
  
"I have no idea where to start."  
  
================================  
  
Sitting on the couch, legs planted apart on the floor. He hadn't meant to do this, it was a habit he picked up very recently, especially when he was nervous about something. His right hand would rest upon his left, and two of his fingers would caress his now currently vacant soreness on his ring finger.  
  
Some people saw getting the band as a lock and key. A removal of a mans spirit. How ironic for him.  
  
He saw her, in the corner of his eye, trying to think of something to say or do. Her hand raised for a second, almost as if to meet mine, then she stopped.  
  
A for effort I suppose.  
  
"I'm sorry but it's nothing but hero worship." Bradburn said looking up at her. His face was a little haggard from being up this late. It was eleven PM after all.  
  
She almost sighed but instead squeezed her hands into fists. "Trust me, I have enough heroes to worship." He was surprised. She was so close to sounding like a regular teenaged girl and not the quiet and vaguely sardonic girl he knew from his class. "You... you..." He felt the couch sink in as she joined him. "It's more than that. I do care about you more than just..." He looked to her, but she had already turned her head. Guess she didn't want to say it like that.  
  
"How did you find out where I lived?" This ought to be good he thought to himself.  
  
"It's funny... I didn't. You know the sub, Miss Greengrich?"  
  
His eyes squinted. "She didn't tell you-"  
  
"No. I... snuck into her car." She faintly smiled at this. He almost wanted to smile too. Has she never heard the one about the crazy ax murderer in the back seat? He knew Greengrich didn't have the best eye sight, but to not even see a student in her car? That was truly laughable.  
  
He just wished he could muster up a laugh.  
  
"So. How did you pull off such a daring feat?" He was curious. I mean logistically, there probably isn't a real way to hide in someone's car without them seeing you. You'd have to be really contending with somebody blind and stupid. Which despite his previous joking, he was pretty sure Greengrich wasn't that bad... right?  
  
She seemed more open. That hinted smile was fading, but still visible. "Well... I." That glint she once had almost completely disappeared. Lost in a train of thought.  
  
"Would you believe I had more than one power?"  
  
I suppose it's not everyday you make out with a fourteen year old girl with just one super power. It could never be an average day for me.  
  
Violet's hands reached over to mine, grabbing at the one that was locked in his two fingered grip. Separation had not been his forte right now and he fought against it at first. It wasn't like he was gonna stop her though. So with a reluctance... he let go. The hand with the indent almost flew with her as she hadn't realised it would be that easy.  
  
With her on her back, her two hands barely gripping his hand between her chest...  
  
He internally shook himself.  
  
He did admit however, somebody holding his hand in these moments of weakness brought a light-headed levity that had mollified him. Had all of this been all bad? No. Was all of it good? God no. With that said. Just being here with her stroking his hand...  
  
"Are you watching?"  
  
He shook his head immediately. That soft voice of hers wasn't commanding him to do anything. He was just a little embarrassed he had been lost, staring at her.  
  
Well. He WAS staring at her.  
  
She had vanished without a second word. His other hand reached out, slowly, shaking. "Violet?" He was scared and flustered. How had he gotten this way? In his panic and fear, he had forgotten she had just been holding his hand. He gripped his hand like he had wanted to catch a fly and restrained whatever had been there. There was a slight low groan of pain. His handle on her stabilized back to normal and she seemed to be almost painted back into his reality.  
  
"So you do care about me."  
  
That was a cheap shot.  
  
He released her. Even if it was true, which nobody can prove, it never gives him the right to pursue it. He got off the couch and turned. He couldn't face her. "For god sakes Violet. I'm your fucking teacher." Did he go to a clown college or a major university? "Sorry about the language." He exhaled and placed his hands fidgety at his sides. Maybe he could still be... no. There was no recovering from this. He would have to be frank with her. "Violet... this just won't work. You're too young for the responsibility."  
  
Violet pursued him and grabbed at a hand of his, wanting him to turn to her. He ripped himself out of her grip when she tried. "Don't shut me out."  
  
He retaliated. "You were never in."  
  
Violet bit her lip at that. Then something snapped within her.  
  
"Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't understand responsibility. I've got plenty of them." Violet's voice started to heighten with what she was about to say. "I'm the daughter of freakin' Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl. Imagine that kinda pressure." Violet continued her tirade. "You ever have somebody rely on you but you just... just... fuck up?"  
  
"I do."  
  
His face was like a slab of stone, eyes locked forward. Violet seemed to know how to chip and chisel that all away to reveal his once softer visage. Turning slowly back, she came back into his field of view, not exactly chipper, but she gave him the most begging hound dog eyes he'd ever seen.  
  
He did likewise.  
  
"I really do..."  
  
"Then you know what it's like to disappoint them, right?" He had thought about her again. Visualizing it. His career and those kids on pedestals, at gold and silver, and his wife below them, at bronze... There were so many things he would have done differently if he had the chance.  
  
Her little grasp took him away from that place he had stood, tugging him back to the couch. She took a seat and he stood awkwardly, just staring down at her as she pulled his hand against her cheek. The feeling of her soft face in this silence, just them it was... relaxing, no, it was more than that. Could he even admit it? She then, lowered it to the button of her shirt. He wasn't paying attention as it brushed across the skin of her nipple. Bradburn's face lit up, blushing heavily at the realization of what he was doing. Violet seemed happy about the result. Another tug, and he went willingly, collapsing on top of her. He rose, placing himself, staring down at her, as she seemed to finally react to his grazing of her bosoming bud. Violet having lead his hand down to her chest, now grabbed for his features. Their faces colluded once again. There was tension in his body and his heart, but it soon melted. He wondered how she could enjoy this with his rough unshaven face, but she seemed more into it than he was, really forcing herself against him with her little clasped hands on his chin. She was trying so hard to play an adult. Maybe this was still just a delusion by the both of them...  
  
But his body wanted hers. He could feel himself growing, and she was just slightly below him, just out of reach, the pain in his pants like a waiting predator ready to pounce on this nubile young girl.  
  
He sucked in deep as he pressed his lips harder against her, his body almost resembling that of its original shape, as his hands hastened to the zipper of his pants. She anticipated it too, and as he freed himself, she took hold of him, but when she touched him, felt him, caressed him there for the first time, he felt her body seize up in a gasp she tried to conceal. She seemed so impressed by it, trying to fumble her awkward fingers everywhere she could get them. He hadn't felt this masculine in a long time, thanks in part to her... child like hands. They soon left though, leaving him wanting, but he could feel her body bob back and forth as she began working down those pants she wore.  
  
He didn't wait a second. Their sloppy lip lock finally ended by his part as he took his shirt off. Grabbing himself with a jerk, he secured his tip at her entrance, and he asked her a simple question... was she still a virgin? She responded quickly with a yes, almost not even believing he had asked it, but there was something else now...  
  
Hesitation.  
  
She seemed so helpless, her hands laying limply at the sides of her head in a spread of her fine hair, the fright on her face was apparent now. The realization that this thing was about to open her up for the first time. He had thought about it. How she could be warped by stealing this from her, before she could fully appreciate what it meant. Thinking about being her first... he wanted this now. He kissed her cheek, before his mouth whispered to her. "You made me want this."  
  
Lifting up, he stared blankly into her. There was a pregnant pause until she resigned her position, gulping and then nodding against his chest. He didn't put it off any longer, and pushed forward, causing her to wail out and strike her fingers into his back, taking hold of him for this ride he was about to take her on.  
  
Bradburn moved, sitting up on the backs of his heels, bringing her up against him, but letting her slide down painfully on his girth. He could see her reactions as she took him further and further. Maybe she was regretting this. Maybe he had gone too far - yet her young insides made him crave her more.  
  
Violet was powerless, her attempts to stop her own descent went unrealized. Even at night, alone, with a playful digit of her own design, sneaking beneath the covers, Violet found herself in an unreal amount of pain she could have never imagined. Even with the way she grimaced, she wasn't surprised when he didn't attempt to stop it either.  
  
The feeling of her tight warmth was maddening, and his attempts not to drive into her ceased as he began humping endlessly before taking hold of her diminutive hips. He was sure he could cup his fingers around her if he tried.  
  
She strained, fighting against him, those scratches on his back a testament to that. His eyes lusted, seeing her nipples hardening and protruding from her simple satin button-up. He started working her out of it, and as he reeled it off her gangly arms and away from her body, before tossing it to his floor, in a moment of her rise, his lips vigorously sank onto one of her nipples on her nearly flat chest. Violet's reaction was that if he had bitten them. He expected her to push him back, but she instead hugged around his head, as his tongue worked the pointed nubs further.  
  
His eyes shot open. He knew he was going to let loose. But he couldn't just let her hang in the breeze. His thumb worked its way down, attacking a vital part of her that had seemingly gone untouched through this encounter. That seemed to do it, as she squeezed down all around him, not out of a calculated manuever on her part, but plainly just a young girl's body convulsing in reaction. She squeaked out as she came, her face scrunched in a way that reminded him of a little mouse. It was a record time for him as he only barely slipped out of her at the last second, erupting into her belly button.  
  
Coming down from the experience, slightly out of breath, supporting herself on his shoulders, Violet rested her hands daintily, before accidentally slipping, colliding her chin against the sharp part. Bradburn smiled at the nearly out of it girl, as his hand flicked through her hair, patting her naked backside.  
  
================================  
  
Violet clutched her pile of books tightly to her chest, her nose sunken deep into the top of them. She was so damn tired, but did her best to hide it from her parents. Somebody actually woke her up on the bus when it was time to get off. Still. Those books weren't there to cover the fact that she looked and felt like hell...  
  
It was to hide that grin.  
  
Miss Greengrich would be gone by the end of the week and mister Bradburn would be teaching like always~!  
  
As she entered her classroom, not even going to pay mind to their substitute once again, she almost fainted when she heard the voice. Other students passed her by as she stared awe struck, seeing him here, greeting and helloing the students, hands folded partially behind his back, only coming out to wave once in awhile. He clearly was not fresh as a daisy, but he actually shaved. That's an improvement in her books.  
  
The bell rung, and Bradburn asked that "Everybody take a seat." Of course, it was meant specifically for her, and she used her books as best she could to hide the oncoming blush.  
  
As Bradburn looked at the sea of his students, it seemed like word about him was on a fire sale, whispering was at a fever pitch.  
  
Violet was numb to them, thankful that she was too tired to take rapid forgeries being dumped in her ear canal. Especially when she knew the truth.  
  
Bradburn didn't have to say a word. All the students eventually quieting. He turned, grabbing a piece of chalk. "My name is Mr. Bradburn." He wrote on the board. The students seemed ready to fire on all cylinders at that.  
  
A student raised her hand. "Uh, mister Bradburn... we know your name."  
  
He leaned against his desk, folding his arms. "Yes. Yes you do. Or did, in this case. Past tense. It might be hard to understand, but I've undergone a..." He squinted at how best to describe it, his hands thinking separately from himself. "A metamorphosis, but unlike insects, I can't call myself something different." Maybe that was a bit too dry. He cleared his throat. "A lot of rumours have been spreading about me recently. I'm not gonna lie, a few might have hints of truth to them." He exhaled before taking a seat at his desk. "Be that as it may, I am your teacher and while I'm not back and better than ever..." He paused, looking over the students. "I am better." His voice earnest, but he meant it for more than just his general students.  
  
An experienced teacher was skilled at saying something to one specific person, despite making it seem like it was meant for the whole class. He had picked it up in his first year. It wasn't hard, something he hadn't lost being away. Maybe you could say he'd gotten better at it. Especially when that same person could seem invisible.  
  
 **Alternate Ending**  
  
The chatter of the classroom began dying down as Bradburn placed his suitcase down behind his desk, leaning instead atop it with arms folded, he gave them all a look. His intentions unclear - the students bug eyed in response. He broke the ice heading to the chalk board. "I know some of you might remember me from last year, but for those that don't."  
  
"I am Mr... Bradburn." He threw the chalk back onto the slider. "Got it?" The two fingers that held the chalk began rubbing together. That old familiar feeling of dust getting under his skin.  
  
Bradburn flicked his vision to see her, and it almost made him outburst with a guffaw.  
  
Violet had been standing naked as a jay bird in front of her classmates - except they hadn't noticed. Beaming over a sense of pride and happiness that he read loud and clear. Her usual lone eye almost catching him gazing at those mosquito bumps of hers, as he attempted to return to teaching his class.  
  
His hands exaggerated a little, like a bad stage actor, his left hand subtly inviting her over. Getting up to print something on the chalk board, she got a little closer to his lower right, almost tugging at his pant leg.  
  
He reached out, giving her the two finger thrust between her legs.   
  
It was like she had just been stabbed -- Violet looking like she fell to pieces as she was now that awkward girl he first met. He felt the material begin to twist as she pursed her lips into an oncoming gasp.  
  
Bradburn's lips puckered as he gave her a tiny shush. Her lone uncovered eye was straining as those tiny wisps of eyelashes matted together from the wetness streaming down. Her hands pulling firmly at his bicep, attempting to pry him away, but it was no use. He could have lifted her off her legs if he wanted to, really digging himself into her pink clamshell case.  
  
Her juices flowed rapidly, emptying out of her like she was a foolish young girl that had to tinkle. Thankfully the janitor had a sinus problem and maybe wouldn't notice the smell of a horny little slut.


End file.
